Bluey’s Marriage

Tenten gracefully bounded over to the bed and settled upon it cross-legged. She nudged Shikamaru with her foot and gave him even glare.

Shikamaru stretched up. “Alright, I’m leaving.”

Temari wanted to pull him back down on the bed and order him to stay. She ignored the voices in her head that told her to do so. Really, if she started listening all the time to the voices in her head she’d be in big trouble – she’d be even crazier than they all believed her to be.

“Kankurou,” Tenten chimed cheerfully, “get lost.”

Kankurou rolled his eyes. “Mood swings.” He grumbled under his breath exiting the room.

Gaara watched Tenten in mild amusement. “I assume you want me to leave as well?”

“Yes, please.”

Gaara followed after his brother. Shikamaru bent down to remove the headphones from around her neck. She drew her hand up to her neck where they had been. With a wry smile Shikamaru placed the headphones over his own ears. “I’ll be downstairs.” He smiled then exited too.

Hinata turned, about to leave, when Tenten interrupted her. “Ep! Hina, I’d like you here.”

“Wh-Why?”

“Duh. Girl talk.”

Temari stared at the brunette. “Are you even capable of girl talk, Tenten?”

“I’m capable of all kinds of talking.” She defended happily.

Hinata timidly sat on the edge of the bed. Her lavender eyes scoured the entire room. Her nose wrinkled just the tiniest bit.

“Aha! You think it’s messy too!” Temari proclaimed as if in triumph.

Hinata blushed. “Well, just…a little.”

Tenten scoffed. “A little? Damn, girl, it’s a lot messy.” Tenten clicked her tongue. “I can’t believe you’re going to marry this disorganized boy.”

Temari’s eyes snapped to attention immediately. “Marry? Marry?”

Hinata ducked her head down.

Tenten snickered.

“Hold on, he asked you to marry him?” How long was she out of it? She remembered that Hinata and her littlest brother were involved in some way, but she didn’t think they were anywhere near ready to get married. Married?

Tenten’s eyes bugged out of her head and she fell to the floor in a fit of uproariously laughter. Temari wryly thought how unfair it was that even when the brunette fell she managed to avoid any clumpy painful bits that covered Gaara’s floor in its entirety.

Hinata lifted her head, an indescribable expression in her eyes. “Would it be so bad if I did marry Gaara?”

Tenten’s snickers subsided minimally. Her light brown eyes analyzed Temari with complete scrutiny.

Temari floundered. “You’re a bit y-young to be getting ma-married.”

“So if we were older,” Hinata asked calmly, “you wouldn’t care?”

“Of course I’d care.” Temari oddly felt like she was being tested for something. She couldn’t quite figure out what she was being tested for just quite yet. Obviously something important, but that’s as far as she could get. “I mean, he’s my youngest brother and you’re my friend; I’d care if you two decided to get married.”

“I meant, would it bother you?” Hinata’s voice was so low Temari marveled that she could hear it. Most surprisingly, she marveled at how clear it sounded to her. Hinata did indeed have the loveliest voice.

“Why would it bother me? If you both wanted to get married, I don’t think I’d mind.” She paused. “You love him right?”

Hinata nodded.

“I wouldn’t mind in the least then.”

A small smile spread across the pale beauty’s face. She really looked incredibly lovely when she was truly happy.

“You know, Bluey,” Temari began thoughtfully; “you should smile more often. Like, for real, you know? You like nice when you do.”

She really didn’t think she’d mind if they got married. In fact, she’d be happy. Gaara was the happiest she’d seen him in the longest time; she couldn’t ever recall the redhead being as contented as he was when he was with Hinata. It was a quiet peaceful sort of love.

Very nice.

Temari had the suspicion that Shikamaru would laugh at her if she told him that. She also had the suspicion that she wouldn’t mind him laughing at her one bit. Their’s wasn’t a quiet love, there’s was a troublesome kind.

She rather liked it that way.

When I Was a Little Girl

When I was a little girl, momma said never to marry. When I was a little girl, I said ‘Momma, you don’t have to worry. There’s no way I’m ever gonna marry.’

But now its years down the line, momma aint here anymore, and the sunshine aint kind.

Toying with a idea, toying with a dream, as the sand scrapes the outside of the building. Some days she just wants to scream.

When I was a little girl, I’d hear my momma cry. When I was a little girl, I saw tears run down her eyes, and heard her whisper every night ‘God, I wish I could die’

Papa never was kind. Papa never tired. All she ever got from him was scars and endless whys.

Now its years down the line, and taking a chance still doesn’t seem wise.

She thinks it’s just a silly dream, there’s nothing happy to be achieved. She thinks it’s just a silly dream. But that’s just so she doesn’t have to feel her heart ripped apart clean.

When I was a little girl, I thought my momma loved my papa’s eyes. I thought my papa loved my mama’s smile. When I was a little girl, love seemed worth the while. Until I saw the fake smiles.

Now its years down the line, and truth still seems like a fairy tale in her eyes.

She’s a woman now, with decisions to be made. Momma is dead. Papa is dead. Her brothers’ aren’t wonders but they need her around. She doesn’t want them to think her love for them fades.

When I was a little girl, I saw my momma die. I saw her lie on the hospital bed and reach her time. When I was a little girl, I held my youngest brother in my arms before anyone else. It was enough to make me cry.

Things didn’t turn out well. For him. For her. For anyone. For them, things never turned out well. All they ever got, was pure hell.

Now its years down the line, and things have changed, but the responsibility still remains.

She’s got things to do. Priorities, people, and shoes to fill. It weighs on her soul and breaks her in two. Some days herself is the one she’s gotta kill. She’s gotta be strong, and she can’t ever be wrong. She’s got things to do. Too bad she has desires too.

When I was a little girl, momma made me swear to protect my family. When I was a little girl, I swore I would. Eternally.

Papa always swore and papa always schemed; papa drove a wedge between her by keeping things unseen. Eternally faded and all that was left was yet another dream.

She clenches her fists, because she won’t do that again. She won’t forget them – never again. There’s time to make things right, even if her life is lost in the mists.

When I was a little girl, I had lots of dreams. Mostly princes and horses, and castles colored cream. When I was a little girl, I learned dreams are never true. I learned to be scared of men too.

Now it’s years down the line, and things haven’t changed.

She crushes her hopes once again in her heart, its about time she stopped lending it out. It only ever got broken apart.

When I was a little girl, I trusted too much. When I was a little girl I gave everything my own personal touch.

Now it’s years down the line, and only one thing remains true.

Time only shatters you.

Children Are Everything and Nothing

Temari had screamed herself hoarse when she discovered she was pregnant.

After her capacity for yelling appropriately had diminished, she told Shikamaru. The lazy bum seemed shocked to hear the news, but instead of being filled with the same rage and fury as her, he was filled with joy. The sparkle of happiness in his eyes soured her further. He should not be happy. By all rights, he should be ruing the thought, since her being pregnant with his child could only bring problems for both of them.

They weren’t even married.

She thought about yelling and smacking him about, but found she just didn’t have the energy. Instead she just sunk to the couch in his home with a sullen expression and aching limbs. She hated the baby. She hated the baby with every fiber of her being. Shikamaru seated himself beside her, a question in his eyes. He didn’t ask it though.

Temari was glad he didn’t. He probably wouldn’t have liked the answer.

xXxXx

Shikamaru knew that a kid would ruin a lot of things. He knew that a kid would possibly mess up a scheme of his plans, and probably a lot more of Temari’s plans. He fathomed she wasn’t so keen on the idea of lumbering about in such a weak, bloated, and virtually useless (as far as shinobi were concerned anyway) state for months. He wasn’t so keen on dealing with a Temari in that state. He wasn’t so keen on waking up in the middle of the night to a child’s cries. He wasn’t so keen on a lot of the hardship. Mostly he wasn’t to enamored with the very real possibility of leaving Konoha and becoming a Suna shinobi just so he could be a part of the kid’s (and Temari’s) life .

But, despite all of that, he found the idea of a kid, a kid with Temari nonetheless, was better than any complication life had in store for him.

xXxXx

Of all the irksome things that pregnancy brought, the most annoying of them was her huge round beach ball of a belly. She couldn’t walk around with it. Getting out of bed became a laborious project. She usually lay there for five minutes before she mustered the desire to exert all the damn energy necessary to pull herself out of the mattress. Some days she even flirted with the idea of not getting out of bed at all. Shikamaru, the jerk, did nothing to discourage the idea. In fact, he kept encouraging her to stay in bed; he never dropped his nonsense about her needing rest.

What did she need a rest from anyway?! She shouldn’t even be tired, dammit. All she did was get up, eat, walk around, read a book, play shogi, talk, and then go back to sleep.

Ridiculousness.

Temari hated the ball. It knocked into things, made every movement she made slower, and because of it’s gigantic proportions, it’d been a while since she’d seen her own feet.

Yes, Temari hated her belly.

She would sit exhausted on the couch, annoyed that just walking to the kitchen and making herslef breakfast took so much energy out of her. Shikamaru always offered to make her breakfast (in fact, he offered to make her all meals), but she always refused, irked that she couldn’t even pull off such a simple action without getting excessively tired. Shikamaru would always sit beside her, contemplating something or another, he usually shared if she wasn’t in too foul of a mood.

Then she would feel a jolt inside of her. A punch or a kick — some sort of jab in her tummy. No matter how often it occurred every time she felt the hit, she jumped up in shock. She would draw her hands to her belly and feel the fight inside of her. The baby would be a strong one, she would think. Also, due to the child’s incessant kicks, it was apparent it did not take after the usual Nara apathy. It was this that made her believe the creature inside of her was a girl. After all, male Naras were conceited lethargic geniuses. Upon discovering she was pregnant with Shikamaru’s child, she traced his family lineage back as far as possible to find what traits her child might inherit; this journey only served to inform her that the males in his clan were all lazy chauvinists too smart for their own good, and the females never inherited the kekkai genkai. This information did nothing new to her outlook. She still couldn’t stomach the idea of accepting the creature let alone trying to decide if she wanted a girl or a boy.

She grew more certain each day that passed that it was a girl.

She still never decided if she considered that a good thing or bad thing.

Whenever she felt the kicks in her enormous belly, she would motion the movement within her to Shikamaru. The lazy man would press his hand (or his ear) gently on her belly. The warmth of his body always tickled her and stirred her to the bone, and even years later when she was an old woman, she’d remember with striking clarity how the kicks grew more pronounced when he touched her. It was as if the creature inside her noted his presence and demanded to get out.

A charming and honest smile always graced his face when he felt the creature within her stir.

Temari never told him that the child tended to react more strongly when he touched her. She was sure he would’ve like to know. In fact, she was sure that knowledge would make him feel happier, but in those days Temari was selfish, and the child only served as a hated object impeding her from everyday activities. She was suffering, and if she could withhold a precious bit of information from Shikamaru, then she felt her suffering was at least somewhat paralleled by the other causative factor of her pathetic state.

Regardless of all her bitter thoughts, Temari couldn’t explain the warmth those moments brought. She couldn’t explain how she could hate her belly and the child within it with every fiber of her being, but love it at the same time. Sometimes, she thought, maybe it was a good thing she got pregnant.

Only sometimes.

xXxXx

Temari debated over the idea of giving her child up for adoption.

She thought over it long and hard, and had yet to come up with a reasonable decision. She didn’t want the baby. She knew she didn’t want to raise a child. She wasn’t fit to, and she wasn’t wanting to learn how to become fit to either. Babies were for soft tender civilians — not for women like her.

xXxXx

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! OH, GOD, NARA! ONCE THIS IS OVER I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE! I’LL SHOVE A FUCKING WATERMELON DOWN YOUR THROAT AND PULL IT OUT OF YOUR END! SEE IF YOU LIKE THIS CR—OH DAMN!” Temari screamed loudly.

Beside her, Shikamaru winced periodically as her grip on his hand tightened with each wave of pain. He didn’t complain, and he didn’t try to pull away; he didn’t voice his pain, and he didn’t say anything about calming down to her.

Unlike the idiotic nurse.

Temari savored ideas of snapping the skinny twits neck once this was over. How could she calm down? She was pushing the largest friggin’ head out of a pathetically small hole. This type of action shouldn’t even be possible!

Shikamaru just knelt by her bedside, allowing her to crush his hand to what she later discovered was so incredibly forceful she dislocated two fingers and broke his thumb. The lazy man, in contrast to the nurse’s pleas, told her to scream and swear to her hearts content every time th damn nurse tried to get her to calm down. She bit his head off quite a lot during her rants. She insulted him, and she was also certain spilled quite a few hurtful and embarrassing comments (that she later admitted to being mostly false) to him at a such a loud tremor that the people waiting outside (including her brothers, his teammates, and most of the 12 young Konoha shinobi whom she’d gone against in her first shot at the Chuunin exam) could hear every single word and related every word to any other shinobi that knew either or both of them. Shikamaru never called her out on it, and never told her to shut up.

If Temari weren’t in so much pain, she would’ve appreciated what Shikamaru was doing, but as it was, she felt like she was dying and was in no mood to so such a thing.

In that instant as she lay giving birth she gained a newfound respect toward all mothers. Mothers were the strongest and craziest creatures on earth. Especially those who had more than one child. Giving birth hurt more than any injury she’d ever sustained on the field — and she’d sustained quite a few. She’d almost died once and this still hurt more than that did.

That child had better damn well be special for all this pain it was causing her.

xXxXx

“TWINS!” Temari screamed frantically through her pain; although,between her yells, the child’s cries, the nurse’s frantic commands, the doctor’s snap that everyone should shut up, and Shikamaru’s exclamations of confusion to the doctor, it was hard to distinguish what anyone was really saying. Later, people weren’t even aware she had said anything at all when the doctor declared there was still another child. Everyone remembered her as having taken the news rather quietly and determinedly.

In reality, she had probably been the loudest one.

She had thought she had finished laboring when she heard the cries of the child. She had thought the torture was over, but nooo, the doctor went off and proclaimed she had another fucking baby in her uterus.

No wonder her belly had been gigantic.

xXxXx

After she had calmed down enough (with some help from medication supplied by the doctor) Shikamaru had placed one of the children in her arms. A soft bellied boy with russet skin and Shikamaru’s dark eyes. Temari gasped audibly as the chubby boy turned in her arms. His slanted eyes stared up at her lazily and the boy seemed to yawn. Tufts of blond hair were visible at the top of his head. Temari was unsure as to what to do with the creature in her arms. It was just a baby, and it was so tiny. What did one do with them?

Gently, Shikamaru shifted the bundled package in his hands (she assumed it was the other child) to one arm and with his free hand he pushed her arms gently so her arms swayed rocking the staring boy to and fro tenderly.

Temari continued the rocking after Shikamaru’s hands had retreated back to the other child.

The little boy smiled widely and turned to his side cradling into the nook of her arms.

It wasn’t so hard she thought.

Just move him here and there.

She found her lips tug up into a happy grin. He was lovely.

xXxXx

The girl was more like Temari. She had been born first and come out crying like a banshee. The boy had come out without a noise; so quietly in fact, that they had all feared the boy was dead. But he had merely just come out asleep.

The twins, seemed to have inherited their mother’s desire for individuality. On top of seeming to have two strikingly different personalities, they had very different appearances. The doctor said they were fraternal twins. Temari didn’t really care what they were, so long as they didn’t suddenly break. Having held them in her hands once, she was afraid the little things would break at once, and she didn’t want them to break.

She wanted them to be whole living happily.

The girl had dark brown hair, fair skin, and dark green eyes that reminded Temari fairly of her own. Upon holding the girl in her hands Temari knew instantly she had been the one kicking and punching. The girl squirmed in her hands and bit and kicked angrily. But when placed next to her quiet brother, she seemed to calm considerably. Just like when the boy was placed next to the girl he seemed to perk up instantly.

They were lovely little things.

The more time she spent looking at him, the less she could imagine giving them away. They were her and they were Shikamaru and the thought of putting that up for adoption felt as if she were rejecting a peice of herself. She and Shikamaru had made them.

Besides, it’s not like she could trust a stranger to understand the odd children and care for them.

Maybe she wouldn’t do such a good job either, but those kids were hers, and if it killed her she would learn.

It couldn’t be harder than being a kunoichi, right?

xXxXx

Shikamaru was baffled when he first held the boy. Unlike the girl, who seemed to automatically shut up when the noisy bundle was placed in his hands, the mystifyingly quiet boy turned his dark beady eyes upon him and let out the loudest scream Shikamaru had ever head. He was even confident the yell surpassed Temari’s loudest one. The boy would also start crying and kicking furiously.

Shikamaru was so startled by the reaction he nearly dropped the boy. He rocked him, talked to him, coddled him, and hushed him; Shikamaru did everything he could to calm the boy down, but like his mother, the child refused to be pacified. When Shikamaru’s confusion grew to a state so profound he didn’t know what to do with the child, he passed the boy into his mother’s hands (since Temari was still seemingly yelling her head off and being tested for possible complications). As soon as the boy left his arms, it ceased making any noise whatsoever.

This frustrated Shikamaru so much that he took the boy right back out of his mothers hands, despite Yoshino’s fervent protests, as if such an action would erase the child’s previous inquietude. Just like before, as soon as his hands held the russet skinned boy, he began making an obscenely loud ruckus.

Yoshino took the boy back a frustrated frown on her lips and muttered that he simply did not know how to care for a child. She further prattled that she felt sorry for the children, as they were doomed to have two parents who knew not how to take care of a child. Yoshino even made vague assurances that she would spening a lot of time at his home caring for the twins.

Shikamaru was far too disturbed with the boy’s reaction to protest or defend himself.

Although, it didn’t escape his notion to defend Temari.

Somehow he never failed to do that particular thing.

xXxXx

Despite Temari’s silence about the entire affair, Shikamaru was more than aware that Temari had been contemplating giving the children up for adoption. He was also aware, though everyone he knew would insist he did not know, that Temari had almost had an abortion.

He was aware that the blond desert kunoichi had stood outside a clinic, palms sweaty and heart racing. He was aware she had made an appointment. He was aware she had even stepped inside the building.

He was also aware that she had ran out shortly after entering stopping at the Kazekage building furiously demanding to see the Kazekage.

Temari had been crying and screaming and ranting nonsensical statements when she did so; the poor receptionist was always frightened of Temari, and Temari in that particular state had driven the receptionist so mad with terror, that she was perfectly willing to interrupt the Kazekage’s important meeting with the Kage of the lightning village to declare that his elder sister was having a psychotic episode.

It was then that a select few of people managed to see the Kazekage explode. It wasn’t for the matter that his sister had ‘besmirched’ the family name by dallying about and becoming impregnated by a man without being married like most people suspected; it wasn’t because he was enraged at the thought of a man using his sister so without any commitment or at the very least decent protection on his part like Kankurou was; it wasn’t because Temari had nearly ended a child’s life like some avid protectors of human life would proclaim; and it most definitely wasn’t because Temari had interrupted an important meeting like the council was. In fact, Gaara of the desert lost his temper because and only because when he questioned his sister about the entire event and the implications it was sure to bring, Temari asserted that she did not want Shikamaru to know anything about the child.

To this day, Temari is still at odds as to why Gaara reacted so strongly to what was possibly the only demand she had her heart set firmly upon.

Only Shikamaru and possibly Kankurou know why Gaara lost his temper so horribly that day, and neither of them will ever repeat it to another human being.

xXxXx

Temari would watch Shikamaru as surreptitiously as she could during the first days of the twins’ lives. She would trace his movements and strain to hear his every word, curious as to how attached and serious he was about the children. The first thing she noticed was Shikamaru’s obvious aggravation with the boy. The second thing she noticed, is he didn’t give up like she (and everyone else) expected him to do. In fact, he would hold the boy as often as possible, talk to the boy frequently, and Ino swore she saw the lazy man reading a book on caring for a young boy whenever he wasn’t in the hospital. It’s not like he neglected the girl either. He placed tender care and affection upon both the children. It was evident in his every movement and tender word that he really loved the young children.

Temari’s heart twisted painfully when she saw him holding the children.

She would turn her head and stare at her hands, upset and confused at his actions. Temari had decided determinedly to keep the children, but she also intended to go back to Suna. Living in Konoha was not for her. Even if she stayed here her children would have a decent father, she simply could not stay in Konoha.

Deep down she was afraid of telling him, because she thought it might hurt her more than she was ready for.

xXxXx

If anyone asked her if she loved Shikamaru she would lie. She would shake her head furiously and exlaim in the most indignant tone that she could not love that man. How could she?

If anyone asked Shikamaru if he loved her he would smile. If you were pushy enough as most Konoha shinobi were, he would eventually open his mouth and tell you that he did. How could he not?

If anyone asked any of their friends or family how they thought the entire debacle would end, mostly all of them would respond in the same way. Some would scoff, some would spittle, some would giggle, some would chortle, some would roll their eyes, but most of them would say those two could only end up together. Who knew how or when, but they would.

xXxXx

When she was healthy enough to leave the hospital, she took her children and informed Shikamaru she would be leaving.

He shrugged and said he’d figured she would.

Temari couldn’t really explain how disappointed she felt at the deliverance of such news. Somehow she’d hoped he would’ve fuaght hard for the twins (if not for her like she hoped) but apparently that wasn’t the case. Maybe he really didn’t care for them so much.

xXxXx

Temari was shocked to find Shikamaru in Suna three days later.

He’d forgotten to mention to her that he would be following her back to Suna.

“Leave.” She demanded, though she was grateful he’d shown up.

“No.” He leveled his eyes at her. “You damn well better get used to me, Temari, because I’m not leaving.”

“Oh,” she seethed, “and why not?”

“Because I’m not letting the three people I really love not be in my life.”

Temari hesitated. She stared resolutely at the ground before grumbling that he could stay. Shikamaru smiled softly at her and wrapped his large arms around her. His warmth was so comforting and safe.

Temari hadn’t felt safe in ages.

It was good, her children would be safe, with him, with her.

Parenthood wouldn’t be so bad, she mused, especially if it was with him.

Not Letting You End It

“Gaara, I want to—” She stopped abruptly as she witnessed her younger brother sitting before his desk a kunai sliding across his skin. She felt as if her heart had literally stopped. “What are you doing, you idiot!?” She screamed furiously. She pulled the blade from his hands throwing it behind her straight into the wall.

A dark line ran across his wrist, red blood pouring from the cut.

He was bleeding.

Gaara looked up at Temari hoping she would have an answer for him.

Her lip was trembling and her eyes were filled with a livid fire. “Answer me!”

“I…I don’t know.”

His sister sunk to the floor. “How can you not know!?” She swore. “You don’t just take a kunai to your wrist without knowing what the purpose is. Do you want to kill yourself? Do you?!”

“Maybe.” He answered honestly.“Don’t you care about us?!”

He frowned. “Temari, I don’t—”

“Do you really think that killing yourself won’t hurt anybody?” Her voice lowered to a normal volume, but it was sharper, firmer, colder.

“I…” He watched his sister. “You would care?”

“Of course I’d care, you idiot! Do you think that – that just because we have an argument that I don’t give a damn?! Hell, Gaara! I’m a temperamental bitch! Ask Kankurou; I say things I don’t mean!!” She growled. “Just when I learn to accept you as a brother, you want to end it? Well, newsflash, I’m not letting you do that.”

“I’m different.” He muttered.

“I know.” She growled. “And I’m sorry I said that you were useless without the Shukaku. I was having a bad day okay? I love you because you’re my brother, not because of your power.”

Cursed to be ‘Mom’

50 Shinobi prompt 44 — Pebble

“Stop that.” Tenten scowled at the Inuzaka boy. The brown-haired boy was happily occupied throwing pebbles at Lee, who was currently training.

Kiba rolled his eyes at her. “Yes, Ma.”

“He’s training, Kiba,” She snapped crossly, she was always annoyed when the boy called her mother, “if you can’t do anything productive, don’t pester other people.”

He yawned and slouched closer to the ground. “Aye, aye, mother.”

“Quit calling me mother.”

“You act like one.”

Tenten was sitting cross-legged on the grass underneath a large willow tree glaring at the boy. She had previously been relaxing, occasionaly glancing at Lee –who was going overboard as usual – before the Inuzaka had shown up. “Well, someone has to chastise you if you insist on acting so immature.” She huffed.

Kiba smirked. “You’re only proving my point further.”

“You know, it’s your fault everyone calls me ‘mom’.” It was starting to irk her. Kiba started it, then Neji continued it merely to annoy her. Following Neji came everybody else. They would tease her all the time: Naruto, Ino, Chouji, Lee, Shikamaru, Shino, Sakura, even Hinata for goodness’ sakes.

The three sand siblings called her ‘mom’ too.

“So?”

“So, it’s-” She sighed irritably, “Just forget it.”

Kiba raised an  eyebrow at her. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me it really does bother you?”

Tenten toed a pebble idly. “I…” She kicked it and winced as the smooth round stone hit Lee squarely in the head. “Oops.”

Kiba laughed.

“That’s not funny.” She mumbled. Maybe she was doomed to be the mom of their generation. She was the one who snapped at them when they needed snapping at, comforted them when they needed comforting. She was the one that really didn’t partake in the stupid things or even knew about them until after it was all said and done. She was the one that had her hair pinned up and dressed the most modestly of them all. She was the one who fixed their blunders and gave them hell for screwig up so badly after fixing it up later. She was the one who told them not to swear and more often than not, her advice was ignored on the grounds of being too practical. She sighed. She was a mom.

There used to be a time when she as just as childish and immature as the lot of them. Why did she have to be the one to grow up first?

“Seriously,” Kiba looked at her his head inclined to the side. “Does the idea of being a mom bother you THAT much?”

Tenten didn’t respond.

“Fuck, Tenten, you should–”

“Don’t swear. It’s unseemly.” She interjected absentmindedly, not realizing that she was cleaning his language until after she’d said it.

She grimaced. Further proof that she was mom.

Kiba smirked, obviously content that she kept meeting his standard on mom-ish behaviors. “Shoot, Tenten, you should feel happy and proud that we recognize you as mom.”

“Oh, really?” She scoffed, eyebrows raised. “I should feel content that I’m always the odd duck out? That I’m always the one excluded from ‘fun’ endeavors? That I’m always the one who isn’t really a buddy?” The ever-prevalent feeling of resentment stirred within her. It just wasn’t fair! Why did she have to feel like the mom; why couldn’t she fit in the same way the all managed to?!

Kiba stretched, obviously unbothered by her bitterness. “You should feel content that you’re more than just a buddy to all of us. You should feel content that we would all trust you with our biggest issues. You should feel content you’re not the odd duck out, because you’re the duck we all inevitably follow even though we stray from time to time. You should feel content that you keep us all together the way only a mom can.” He chucked a pebble at her forehead. “You should also feel content because it means you’re boss. Come on, who doesn’t want to be boss?”

Tenten tried to stifle her smile. “Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Hey, I’m being honest, ma.”

She scoffed. “Oh, like you were being honest when you told that nice redhead you were a Jounin to get a date with her?” Tenten asked eyebrows raised.

“I was honest enough.” Kiba defended. “She found out later.”

“Because I twisted your ear until you told her.”

Kiba grinned. “And she thought I was sweet for being honest with her. All the more reason I’m glad you’re you.”

“And you two idiots broke up a week later.”

“Meh.” Kiba waved his hand about. “Irrelevant details.”

“Fickle.” Tenten rolled her eyes and soon after Lee plopped down beside them. “Done, Lee?” She asked him.

He grinned. “Yes! All four-hundred and seventy three laps!”

Kiba’s lips quirked up into a devilish grin. “I could’ve sworn you said you’d do four-hundred and seventy four laps before you took a rest….Ah, well, four-hundred and seventy three is just as good.”

Lee blinked. “Did I really say…?” He stood up. “Now I must do seven hundred laps!”

“Lee-” Tenten began to protest, but the green-clad boy was already doing his laps.

Tenten smacked Kiba across the chest. “Jerk.”

Kiba snickered. “Oh, come on, it’s funny.”

She slapped him again. “Go run with him.”

“Do I look insane?”

“No, you look suicidal.” Tenten stretched her limbs. “At least tell him it was a joke.”

“HEY LEE!”

“YES?” He asked cheerfully. Tenten always found it odd beyond compare that he could be so cheerful after and during bothersome work-outs.

“I THINK YOU SHOULD MAKE IT SEVEN HUNDRED AND TWENTY FIVE LAPS–OWW! DAMMIT, TENTEN!” She smacked him hard across the chest again. Kiba scowled. “Fine…” He grumbled to her. “LEE, I WAS JOKING! YOU REALLY HAD SAID FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVENTY THREE!”

“I know Tenten told you to say that!” Lee called as he ran the track. “I know it is not true!”

Tenten gave an irritated sigh. She looked at Kiba eyebrows raised. “Well?”

“You heard him.”

“But you were lying.”

“Hey,  I tried.” Kiba shrugged, “It’s not my fault he doesn’t believe me.”

“I wonder why.” She commented dryly.

“And why would that be?” He questioned, a smile daring to dart across his lips.

Tenten pursed her lips. “You’re a horrid person.”

He chuckled softly. Kiba picked up another pebble and aimed at the running green blur. “I’m okay with that.” He tossed the pebble and it struck Lee in the forehead.

Tenten threw a pebble at Kiba. “I told you to stop that.”

He smirked.

Tenten groaned. “Ugh. Boys.”

Kiba stretched up. “You wanna go get something to eat? Lee will still be her by the time we get back.”

Tenten looked at him speculatively. “And you’re inviting me why?”

“I can’t be kind?”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well, it’s the son’s job to take care of his mom, right?”

She smirked. “So you’re paying?”

“Yeah.”

Tenten stood up, thinking over his proposal. “Does this mean, Kiba, that anytime we ever go do anything you have to pay for me?” She cracked her knuckles. “And that you have to buy me a mother’s day gift? Or do menial chores for me, like fix my toilet or garbage disposal?” She smirked. “I mean, that is what a son would do right?”

He stared her. “You sure know how to milk things don’t you?” He shook his head in mirth. “I never said I was a good son. Maybe your other kids are better to their mom.”

“Jerk.”

“Well do you want food or not?”

“Eh, why not?” She grinned.

Kiba wasn’t so bad, he was annoying at times, but he wasn’t so bad. Neither were the rest of the shinobi in their generation. They were all special in their own wonderful way.

Funny, that they chose her to be mother.

Maybe, she thought, it wasn’t so bad to be the mom.

Peices of Broken Glass

Summary: Glass. Glass. Glass. Everything she saw and touched was glass. Feeling in such a world was dangerous, and she knew. She knew well… Thousands of unshed tears. Because Temari cares so much more than she lets on.
Time:  Set around when Temari is back in Suna and Sakura heals Kankurou from Sasori’s poison.
Genre: Family, angst, hurt/comfort
People: Temari, Kankurou, mentions of Gaara

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Humans were fragile peices of glass from the very beginning.Fragile.Easily broken.She closed her eyes slowly and let her body sag against the wall.Don’t feel.It was a fact of life.Especially for the shinobi.They would all inevitably shatter.

Sooner rather than later.

Don’t feel.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes slowly slid open and looked ahead of her.

Don’t feel.

She hated begin a shinobi at times like these.

The uncertainty.

The fear.

The anger.

The strong, pulsing desire to scream, yell — to cry.

It was a hard thing: to remember not to feel.

But nowhere near as hard as the alternative: letting yourself feel.

Straightening, Temari stared calmly at the door, differing from the whirlwind tossing inside of her. The words — the actions dying to scream, to cry — to feel.

It was hard for some people to just look at Temari. Shinobi’s weren’t supposed to feel, but every one of them did, and that weakness, destroyed them. That weakness allowed the grace of feeling better, but it clouded judgment. Temari had perfected the art of appearing completely apathetic at times like this. She was the picture of peaceful composure, while inside she was breaking.

Humans WERE glass, and she was no exception.

What she refused to do was show her cracks, she hid those.

And because of that, people had trouble believing Sabakuno Temari was actually human.

She didn’t feel.

Except she did.

And every time something like this happened, she had to remind herself that she wasn’t allowed to feel.

And this happened all too often.

That, she supposed was the problem with having brothers like hers.

One who always played with poison.

One who harbored a demon.

Two who were so near to dying too many times for comfort.

You would figure it got easier as the time passed, but just got harder. Especially when each experience brought them even closer to death.

She turned the cool knob and walked into the room.

Her brother lay in the bed staring up at the ceiling, his face devoid of purple paint, eyes blank.

At least she knew one of them was still alive.

Her hands clenched involuntarily.

One.

He glanced at her. “Hey.”

Her mouth felt sticky, her tongue had trouble moving around to form words. “Hey.”

“Came close didn’t I?”

Temari’s eyes slid closed instinctively as she felt the warm prickling behind her eyes. “Yeah.”

Temari hadn’t cried since the old Kazekage had smacked her to the floor and told her she was a worthless child and even worse ninja. Her arm had been broken in three places. It took her forever to recuperate. She was a child then, and she hadn’t let herself cry ever since then.

Don’t feel.

“Guess I was just lucky, hmm?”

“You always are, Kankurou.” She opened her eyes slowly.

The boy before her no longer looked the same.

He was younger.

Chubbier.

No scars.

No paint.

No muscles.

With small blank eyes and a soft warm smile. Peanut butter stuck between his fingers and hair. His clothes covered in dirt. His nose smudged.

Small puppet plays.

Learning to cook.

Her vision cleared.

The older Kankurou staring back at her once more. He was saying something. Temari moved over to the bed and sat gingerly at the foot of it, nodding at the words Kankurou was saying but not hearing a single thing.

Don’t feel.

She remembered the little kid who would help her make sandwiches in the kitchen.

And dirty the whole thing too.

The little kid who told her she could be a great ninja — no matter what the Kazekage said.

The little kid who would throw food at her claiming to be protecting her from invisible fairies.

The boy who would always cheer her up in her grouchiest moods.

The boy who knew her so well it scared her.

The boy who would cover her with blankets and bring her a charred attempt at soup when she was sick.

The boy who would sit with her in silence when she needed company.

The boy who understood why she never let the tears fall.
The boy who told her it wasn’t bad to feel.

Her little brother.

“Hey, are you even listening?” he inquired.

The tears burned behind her eyes.

“Oi! Temari!”

She wrapped her arms silently around her little brother, “Kami, you are so stupid!”

She could feel Kankurou smile. “Sorry about that, but one of has to be an idiot. Kami knows you won’t be it.”

Temari laughed, a cross between a sob and a chuckle. “Baka.””Hey, no worries, Tem, I’m okay.”

You’re okay.

He was okay.

But…Gaara.

He might not be.

She pulled back and looked at the hands in her lap.

It was so hard.

It got harder every time.

They were glass and by sheer luck, by scientific anomaly, she, Kankurou, and Gaara were still whole. They were scratched, they were dinged, a little dirty, but they were still whole. Throughout all the shit, they were still whole.

It wouldn’t…

It wouldn’t be fair if…after all that, AFTER ALL THAT, one of them could break.

Gaara was just as much glass as anyone else; she was sure he could break quite easily.

She just didn’t want him to.

It was a fool’s decision to care at all.

To care was to feel.

Pretending got harder every time.

“He’ll be fine, Tem.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I can hope.”

Hope.

“We’ve been through worse shit haven’t we? Have a little faith.”

Temari sighed. “Faith?”

“Yeah.” Kankurou smiled. “C’mon. I’m the idiot. You’re the bitch. Gaara’s the inhuman demon thing. If ANY of us was going to die, it would be the idiot first.”

Another half laugh, half sob escaped her throat. “I hate you.”

Don’t feel.

He grinned. “I love you too, Temari.”

The unfortunate thing was she was human. Wholly completely and one hundred percent human. There was no way that she could possibly not feel. She was glass after all.

Worry and fear would always keep crowding her mind.

For the little boys.

The little boys she HATED and loved with all her might.

The boys she wanted to kill and protect.

Her only family.

Humans were glass, and they would refuse to be anything else, even after all that was left was shambles.

Even when all that remained, was pieces of broken glass.

Feeling was worth it all.